


Hairline Fracture

by Malign



Series: Fractured [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Guilt, M/M, Mementos (Persona 5), Multi, Other, Persona 5 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-30 01:59:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13940136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malign/pseuds/Malign
Summary: A fracture could vary in severity, from a hairline fracture to a compound fracture. Even once nominally healed damage could remain, and if the right pressure, or perhaps rather the wrong pressure, was applied...Ryuji Sakamoto, Skull of the infamous Phantom Thieves of Heart, is having trouble with his Persona. One day, whilst in Mementos, things become far more complicated than they need to, when he discovers he can seemingly no longer call upon his cognitive ally. It all begins the evening of December 12th...





	Hairline Fracture

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing a fanfiction on here, so any and all constructive criticism is appreciated! I've had this idea going round in my head for a while now, though I've struggled to really get it out. This chapter is less a Chapter 1 than it is a Chapter 0, setting the stage for what the fanfiction will really be about.
> 
> Please let me know what you think or feel about it, positive or negative, I always enjoy feedback, and hope you all enjoy reading it! :)

**Hairline Fracture (Part 1)**

**The evening of the 12 th of December.**

 

* * *

_This was the part,_ Ren thought to himself, _when people usually slammed their beers together, after a good day’s work._

Of course, as they were sitting in a public diner, they didn’t have any alcohol, instead a range of sodas, coffee, tea and, in the case of the consistently impoverished Yusuke, a simple plain water, barely touched.

The food was a more eclectic mix of light snacks and desserts, nothing to heavy, no main course, seeing as they’d actually just popped in for a quick bite. Of course, as a casual look at his phone revealed, they’d already been inside for almost an hour.

_Ten more minutes,_ inside his school bag Morgana rustled a bit, nose poking out, two eyes blinking up at him in a rather clear; _‘feed me! I’m hungry!’_ gesture. It was amazing how much the little creature could communicate, even when wearing a cat’s face.

“Here we go, eat up buddy,” Morgana responded with gusto, snatching an offered morsel and nibbling on it tentatively, at first, as if savouring the flavour…before deciding to simply devour the small nugget in seconds.

“Don’t eat to fast Mona-chan, you need to give yourself time to digest,” Haru spoke, with the characteristic kindness and generosity they’d all come to adore about her.

“Eh, don’t listen to her Mona, in the modern world you gotta scarf down your food, who’s got time for manners?” Haru wasn’t one to glare, but she did pout somewhat at Futaba’s rather ungracious comment. Futaba’s abrasive manner could be, at times, a frustration, but her genius and commitment to her friends was beyond question. However, other aspects of her personality were, as she might put it, a little more ‘buggy’;

“Evidently you do not, as those were my fries you just stole!” Yusuke could inject a certain amount of drama into even the most mundane of circumstances, and his thin eyebrows met at the centre of his furrowed forehead, as he tried to glare at the younger girl next to him.

Futaba was far from intimidated though; “Hehe, gotta watch your plate, all’s fair when it comes to food, don’t you know?” The accompanying giggle contrasted rather well with Yusuke’s indignant huff, the aspiring artist lifting his plate up and shifting it further to Haru’s side, as he grumbled back;

“I’d appreciate it if you would stop filching from my edibles, and I could do with less of your mangling expressions of language as well,”

“Oh, come on, don’t be so fussy, here, have some of mine,” fussy was a rather apt description for Yusuke, although it didn’t reduce his conviction or reliability.

 “Dinner and a show, nice,” Ann giggled as Futaba and Yusuke engaged in a rather bizarre little game, the smaller girl gripping a piece of food and trying to poke it towards the rather lanky boy, as he displayed surprisingly flexibility in trying to evade her;

“I…do not…want any of your…food thank you…very much!”

They shared a laugh, the sort only a group of people who’d faced life and death together could, a laugh resonating with the relief which lay just beneath it. Each face, in its own way, had some exhaustion beneath it, haggard around the edges, none were spared completely. Although he could not see his own face Ren imagined he had to look very much the same, how could he not after what they’d been through?

_What we’ve been through…_ he gave a sigh, slowly releasing the air in his lungs, feeling his hands unclench over his knees, letting the smile tugging the corners of his face further and further up.

_You are all, without a doubt, the seven most amazing people I know._

And it was mostly true, even if it was far to schmaltzy and sentimental for him to risk saying now without fear of at least Futaba taunting the hell out of him for it. But just that feeling settled over him, helping work out all that lingering adrenaline still filling him up.

That ‘mostly’ true statement because, though small, there was an inaccuracy in it which he was beginning to notice…

_But you’re only six here…_

Frowning a bit, he looked over to see Ann on her phone, fingers tapping at the screen, typing out words.

 

* * *

 

It was a bizarre scene, there wasn’t really any other way about it. How else did one explain a teenager, hair dyed a particularly aggressive shade of blonde, lying seemingly dazed, propped up against a lamppost in the early evening? If someone didn’t find that strange then, well, one should probably be careful around that person.

Luckily nothing untoward hand happened to him yet…well, nothing other than what had left him stranded there at night, clearly, that had still happened. But no-one had come and stolen his belongings off him in his defenceless state. So that was a positive aspect.

For him there wasn’t really a single, firm, point you could pin down as the moment at which he woke. The boundary between full consciousness, and only being half-so, was nebulous, a liminal thing, and by the time he realized it was his own eyes staring out at a night shrouded city, he’d already been staring for some time actually.

Nagatacho was dark, even late into the night, and seeing as he’d been left propped up underneath a lamppost, the glaring light from above had meant that his lapse of consciousness had been, mercifully, quite brief, as eyelids parted and squinted beneath the shine of the lamppost.

One blink, two, and slowly thoughts reorganized themselves from simply accepting stimuli to actually formulating coherently inside his mind, bringing with them the sudden awareness that he was awake, lying against a lamppost, head propped up against it and that it was well past his curfew. Now this was a rather…odd situation to be in, to put it lightly, and Ryuji had to furrow his brow, as the memories reconstructed themselves into a chain of events he could follow;

Shido’s Palace, the fight, the sinking ship-

*Bzzzt* the buzzing from his pocket, his phone, interrupted his thoughts as he started, placing one palm down on the pavement, trying to bend his outstretched legs inwards so he could push himself up to a standing position-

Pain, fresh, hot, lanced through him, his leg the origin point for an arcing bolt of it, traveling through nerves and synapses, using them like a ladder, all the way up to his brain, where they delivered their white-hot package, distributing it through the nervous system with frightening efficiency.

All he could do in response was grunt, a grimace straining his face as, instinctively, both hands shot out and gripped around the offending knee, pulling it closer to his torso till he was, practically, cradling the aching limb to his chest, rocking slightly back-and-forth, riding through the pain, an ugly reminder of a phantom injury.

“Fuck,” Ryuji cursed, rubbing his fingers against the leg of his pants, as if he could knead the pain out of it somehow, holding his position for as long as he could, the pain building as it throbbed before, like releasing an elastic, he let go, slumping back, his leg straightening out again and taking with it all the pain. His head rested back against the cool metal of the lamppost, as he took in a breath, now very much awake.

 He was, of course, far from unfamiliar to pain, particularly of this variety, but being familiar with it didn’t mean he was immune to it, and the pulsing currently taking up residence in his leg was stronger than normal. He presumed it was because of his hasty effort to get up, he’d tried to push down with just the injured leg and one arm, put too much weight on it for a moment, and then experienced the consequences of his rush.

Wasn’t that just an apt metaphor for his life?

_Getting beat up certainly didn’t help,_ dripped bitterly in his mind, accompanied by an ugly, messy, flash of something in him, a brief feeling which made his stomach knot…

But it left as soon as it had come, leaving his brow furrowed and knuckles clenched, somewhat confused where such a vehement thought had come from. It had come so quickly, so viscerally, leaving a foul taste in his mouth and almost a ringing in his ears.

_Its just the pain, that’s all, just gotta work through it and junk, it’ll be cool, its always cool, no matter what they do, no matter…_

It took a few seconds of the quiet nights lack of sound, before he remembered what had made him stir in the first place, his hand fishing out the rather dated phone, to see who, had left him a message.

The phone *clicked*, the screen lit up, and there was;

Ann: Hey? You okay? We’re at Shibuya, in the diner, we’re still gonna be here a while…

…

…

…

How did that make him feel?

Relief? Maybe, there was definitely a sort of excitement, or, perhaps, something more like anxiety? Ann being the first to contact him seemed about right, after all she’d instigated the reason he was still stuck here too, so maybe this was her way of giving an apology? If he squinted hard enough he could see it, it wasn’t like it would be the first time he’d had to accept a lame ass apology from one of them…

_She still sucks at those then, is it really okay for her to just get away with this? Is it okay to just leave it? All I gotta do is forget it, just type an answer and forget it, just put it behind me, just forget it, forget it, forget it, forget it…_

It wasn’t letting itself be forgotten. There was a heat now, but it was apparent it wasn’t just pain anymore, no, the pain in his leg might have disguised the feeling from him to begin with, but, as he stared at that message, that simple configuration of letters, he realized the heat in his chest was an all to familiar feeling; anger…and, beneath it-

_If she actually cared why would she even need to ask? Am I just supposed to accept this?_

His finger hovered over the button, a click from getting into his phone, a password away from sending a response, from letting her know he was alright, or anything else that might be in his mind and, oh, how his mind was churning right now, a frenzy of thoughts and feelings fighting for dominance. But, he knew, he should respond, he should, even if he felt angry, he should respond, it was common courtesy, it was the sort of things friends were supposed to do for each other.

He should.

He should.

Just send a message. Just one word if he wanted. Just a Yeah. Just something. He should.

Shouldn’t he?

Ryuji wasn’t the sort of person to contemplate the meaning of words, their origins, or the difficulties their conceptual frameworks might pose but, here, now, it did occur to him that the word ‘should’ was applied a lot more liberally than it probably ought to be. He did miss the irony of using both ought and should in reference to each other however, but even he had never claimed to be smart, just not necessarily as dumb as everyone assumed he was. That was still a pretty big distinction, and one that mattered to him.

But no. Ann was a friend, it was late, she was worried, he had to let her know, he should do so, it was just decent. His finger hovered over the phone, just waiting to send a message, so easy, just within seconds of doing it…

* * *

 

It was the deepest, most contented, sigh of her entire, admittedly young, life, a noise pulled straight out of her depths and ushered into the artificial light of the Shibuya Diner they were all clustered in. Ann eased herself down, against the leather exterior of the seating, sliding somewhat, as she stretched her arms out wide, on either side, tipping her head up to gaze at the ceiling above, thinking only one thing;

_They had done it_ , they had well and truly done it. Ren had been able to put it in better words than her, when he’d given a little toast for them all, largely at Futaba’s badgering and Haru’s innocent cheerleading, but for Ann the simple sentiment, the part that really mattered was; _we did it!_

Her sigh communicated that sheer sense of relief in ways words might struggle to. It was the sort of expression that would be difficult for anyone to understand, at least anyone who had not travelled into the mind of a would-be Prime Minister of Japan to foil his nefarious schemes for political domination, that is. For, unbeknownst to itself, the small Diner in Shibuya was playing host to a victory party, of sorts, the two boys, four girls and one cat (who would strenuously object to being called such a thing) celebrating their triumph.

Yusuke and Futaba’s little act was finally done now, Yusuke instead having been distracted into a conversation with Haru, while Futaba’s glasses reflected the light of her phone’s screen, the girl as always striving to remain connected. Makoto and Ren, on the other hand, were having one of their ‘mature conversations’™ and Morgana had, sadly, been forced to hide himself deeper in Ren’s bag, after a nearby client had complained she’d heard meowing. It was the unwinding after a long day, the initial excitement and fun which had come with knowing they’d won, was now petering out into the exhaustion of finally letting all the tension of the past month escape. It was cathartic, relieving.

There really shouldn’t have been anything that could sour this mood…

…but for some reason, Ann couldn’t quite get her smile to stick. It was there but…smaller than she would have thought and struggling to keep itself. It was this, probably, which first attracted her older friend’s attention to her, seeing as Ann was usually rather one of the louder members of their group, a certain other blonde conspicuously not withstanding;

“Feeling tired? It is getting a bit late, I think none of us were expecting to stay out this long after…it,” Ann rolled her head lazily towards the sound, Makoto sitting there with her soft smile and perfect posture, sharing a sympathetic look with their fearless leader, which made Ann almost have to resist the urge to snicker at the two. Still, prompted now, she heaved herself up off from leaning on the table, head rolling on to the seat behind her as she stretched out both arms, Makoto not minding as one arm fell over her shoulders, as on the other side Ann was vaguely aware of Futaba ordering yet another round of drinks or snacks.

“Hehe,” sweeping her free arm in front of herself, flashing a ‘V’ sign towards Makoto and accompanying it with a cheeky grin, Ann shook her head and laughed gently in response;

“Too tired to speak, hmm?” She asked, good-naturedly, as Ann let the hand drop.

In truth she did feel exhausted, they all did, the combined fatigue and stress, their close call with death in the Cognitive World, when Shido’s Palace had almost collapsed on top of them, had left all of them more drained then they seemed, particularly now that the high of escaping the Palace alive had begun to ebb away. It was true that escaping every Palace had always presented its own sort of danger but, this, the end of Shido’s Cruise, it had been…different…

_Ryuji._ She smothered that thought quickly, although her eyes instinctively shot down for the briefest of seconds towards the phone she gripped beneath the table.

Still, though Ann was aware that she felt ‘tired’, in the abstract sense, she also still felt that same frenetic energy which came with every heist fuelling her, maybe leftover adrenaline still pumping through her body? She didn’t know, that was more Makoto or Futaba, even Ren and Yusuke’s thing, to know what they were talking about. For her the important part was that she still had enough in her to give Makoto a wan smile as she answered;

“After these two weeks I think I sort of forgot what tired even means, I’ll need to get a whole new definition for it, something even worse then ‘I spent two nights not sleeping cause I had to cram for the exams’ ya know?” She gave a languid shrug of her shoulders, enjoying the sensation of knots unwinding in them.

“I’m guessing you weren’t sleeping very well then, either?” The ‘either’ part didn’t really surprise Ann, she would have been much more surprised if any of them had been able to get a good night’s sleep this past month. Haru practically voiced the same idea out loud when she added;

“I don’t think any of us were getting as much rest as we needed, honestly, it’s been a stressful and hard time, I’m just so glad it all paid off,” Haru’s voice, sugary sweet as always, joined in from across the table, the brunette clearly looking for conversation from the other side, as Yusuke and Futaba beside her bickered about something (and to Ann the exact topic of what they bickered about was really rather irrelevant).

It was all Makoto and Ann could manage not to chuckle, at the rather comically contrasting pair; Futaba short and squatting on the seats of the Diner, Yusuke tall and elongated, folded like some elegant Praying Mantis along side her.  Pretty much the only thing the two had in common was their pasty, pale skin.

“Well…we’ll have time now, after all we’re in the waiting period again, not much better to do than sleep,” Ren said, sitting at the end of the table, his bag as always in front of him, to let Morgana keep track of the conversation.

“You heard Joker guys! New orders are to sleep in and sleep long, so I think we should all take a leaf out of Futaba’s book and fall into one of those mini-hibernations,” Ann leaned forward, onto the table, resting her head on her arms and giving Futaba a cheeky grin, drawing her attention away from the long-suffering Yusuke;

“Sleep?” Futaba sounded incredulous, as if the very suggestion was hard to believe.

“It is what human beings do at night, yes,” Futaba ignored the little swipe by Yusuke, attention now given to Ann;

“Nah, I got way too much energy to do that now, ‘sides, I’ll be up all night refreshing the news sites, wanna make sure I catch it the moment they report on that asshole’s confession,”

The look on Futaba’s face instantly reminded everyone that, however committed they’d been, this had still meant more to Futaba than it had to any of them, except maybe Ren. The death of a mother was not easily forgotten.

“Well...it probably won’t happen tonight Futaba, remember there is normally quite a wait before the Change of Heart really sets in,” Makoto said, one hand rubbing at the back of her neck, trying to work the stiffness out of it.

“Indeed, in all the prior cases there has always been a d- “Yusuke tried to begin, before Futaba simply spoke over him, causing him to irately glare at the side of her head;

“I know, but its an imprecise art, isn’t it? You can’t say for sure something won’t happen tonight, now can you? Right Morgana?” Futaba ignored Yusuke’s glare, poking at Ren’s bag until her interceded;

“Futaba, c’mon, don’t bug him,” Ren said, as the, definitely not a cat, head of Morgana poked out, bright blue eyes watching them all carefully;

“It’s true we can’t say for sure it won’t happen in a night but…considering its never been like that, I think we shouldn’t count on it or anything, besides, staying up all night isn’t healthy for a growing girl! They call it beauty sleep for a rea- mppphhhffff! “

Whatever else Morgana had intended to say was lost as Futaba quickly, and rather roughly, pushed him back down into the bag, hiding him from the waitress approaching with a platter for the table, much to the most diminutive of the Phantom Thieves’ displeasure. Certainly, it was true that few eating establishments anywhere would smile at the idea of a cat sitting on the table their clients ate from, but, then again, Morgana wasn’t a cat. Sadly, that technicality was often lost on people who couldn’t understand his words.

“Thank you,” Ann rolled her eyes at their leader’s seeming unshakeable chivalry, as the waitress got his megawatt smile, the blonde digging in to the food, the only one along with Yusuke who was really still eating; “This stuff is actually pretty good,” she mused, aloud, looking under the table to her phone’s screen.

_Nothing new,_ she caught Ren watching her as she looked up, but he said nothing, and, honestly, she was rather sure he knew exactly what she was doing, just as she was sure she knew exactly what he was doing too.  Either way, the conversation from before was back on;

“You could have just told me!” A sullen Morgana, just sticking the tip of his nose out, grumbled, earning nothing more than a shrug from the offending girl; “It was split-second decision, you don’t want us to get chucked out, now do you? Cause if you’d rather have some tin cat food than this sushi…”

Futaba dangled a piece of sushi tauntingly before him, Morgana’s small tongue lapping at the air, as he nipped his head forward, grabbing it, any misgivings forgotten; “Ooooh~ yes! This is the best! Ahh~ sushi! Sushi~” The rest of the thieves could only chuckle at how quickly Morgana’s ire evaporated in the face of Futaba’s, to be blunt, bribery.

“We should start going though, some of us do have class tomorrow after all,” the reminder earned Ren an impressed nod from Makoto, glad that at least one other person was still keeping their studies in mind.

“Not me,” Futaba was quick to point out, although with her mouth full of food it came out more like; “Nwoth mweth,” and one could just see the vein of irritation popping on the side of Yusuke’s head at the inelegant sight.

A silence briefly followed Ren’s statement, the mood which had been exuberant since they entered now at least petering out, Futaba and Morgana’s chewing being the only noise at the table for a bit. It wasn’t as if Ren’s statement had brought down the mood, no, it was just the inevitable result of the evening, the absolute rush of escaping near death, of defeating their greatest foe, vanishing as every second drew on, and the mundane nature of the world around them reasserted itself.

It was in that brief spell of silence that Makoto noticed Ann, who’d been rather uncharacteristically restrained in not grumbling or complaining at Ren’s mention of class, focusing on her phone, two hands holding it under the table, eyes drawn into two rather thin lines. It wasn’t as if Makoto hadn’t seen Ann on her phone before but…she normally didn’t seem quite so focused on it, certainly not when all them were sitting together-

_But we aren’t all sitting here._

“What’s the matter? Did you get a message from someone?”

Makoto wasn’t dumb, actually, she was quite literally the opposite of it; intelligent. Maybe lacking the expertise of Futaba in matters of software and hardware, and obviously lacking the skills of Yusuke or Haru in their respective trades, but as an individual, overall, she was quite likely the most intelligent of the Phantom Thieves. So, it went without saying, that she was already rather certain what was really going on…

“No, no, I just…” Ann pocketed it, waving the question away with her hand, “…was checking something, nothing major though, don’t worry about it,” it was the sort of dismissal that made clear all Ann actually meant was that she didn’t want to talk about it now. Makoto wasn’t exactly the sort to let that stop her though;

“Ann- “

But her friend had already struck up a conversation with Futaba, telling the girl how jealous she was of the fact that she didn’t have school to worry about, and Makoto wasn’t about to try to make things awkward by pushing the issue now. _Still…I…maybe I should check too…_

Her eyes drifted over briefly down to her own handbag, and the phone she knew was inside, wondering if perhaps a quick message was all that was needed, or if perhaps she should stay out of it if Ann had already sent a message…

She wouldn’t be able to, if someone asked her, say exactly why, in the end, she decided not to. But, that wasn’t important, what mattered was that she battled down that tiny feeling of disquiet which had surfaced when she’d noticed Ann distracted by her phone, and she looked back at the table…where she caught Ren, looking at his phone, distracted.

_Nothing should be able to ruin tonight…_

* * *

 

It was hard for him to say why, exactly, he ended up not sending any response. Why he ended up shoving the phone away harder than was probably wise, levering himself up and walking, limping, to the train station, to find his way home. It wasn’t always as if the clearly explicable rational reason for an action just popped into his head. Sometimes the reason why escaped him, at least at the level where he could put it into words if you asked him.

He was angry, pissed off even, and he didn’t feel like responding. That was what it felt like, if there was more bubbling down below he didn’t know what the right words to describe it were, if there was a name for it. A part him indignantly even felt that he didn’t need to explain or rationalize it, that he felt what he felt, and it was pretty obvious why, so what more did he have to do? What more motivation did he need?

Maybe it was best described so; even though he knew he should respond, something inside of him kept him from doing it. But…he wasn’t exactly sure what that thing was.

And he was trying his hardest to not find out.

One merciful advantage to using the train this late, was that basically no-one else was. This meant he could actually take one of the seats, alleviating the pressure off his leg, instead of having to awkwardly hold on of the rails, and try to balance on one leg as the vehicle made its way along the tracks.

He rested his head against the window, peering out into the dark, lights passing by occasionally. It wasn’t a very interesting sight, or a very pretty one, but it was something to look at, something to try to fill his head with, to prevent irritating thoughts and ideas from creeping, things he was already thinking about but, paradoxically enough, also didn’t want to think about.

If you imagined your mind like a big black void, hovering in some ‘mind’s eye’ thoughts appearing as text or images playing over the blackness, then for Ryuji, staring at those lights, it gave him something to fill that black space with, because if he didn’t fill it with those images…

_Loser…_

“…shut up…” Ryuji growled softly under his breath, gently knocking his head against the train’s hull, as if he could somehow beat the thoughts out.

Somewhere along the line the sound of train wheels over tracks began to resemble the sound of chains rattling.

* * *

 

“Don’t let Futaba stay up all night, okay?” It was the tail end of their goodbyes, Makoto leaving Ren with a reminder as she walked away, earning her a stuck-out tongue from Futaba…though only once the young girl had seen Makoto already turn the corner, Futaba might have been an irreverent sort, but even she wasn’t exactly going to be rude to Makoto’s face, not after having seen her affected by Berserk before.

That now left Ann, Ren and the aforementioned Futaba, Morgana also riding along in Ren’s bag as usual. Reflexively she checked her phone again, looking for some sort of pop-up or indicator that Ryuji had responded. She knew he’s seen the message, her phone informed her of that much at least, but despite this she still had a grand total of zero replies from him.

_Online five minutes ago, what the hell are you doing?_ The wallpaper of her phone, that picture they’d taken in the airport before the school trip, was only serving to make her feel angrier, the little black pit in her stomach condensing, as she had to look at Ryuji’s vacuous, but genuine, smile.

“What’s the deal?” It was Futaba’s question that made Ann give a rather eloquent response of; “Huh?” As she turned her head to look at the shorter girl, her fingers knotted behind her back, leaning forward a bit and with her head cocked to the side;

“You’ve been checking your phone, like, every five minutes, are you expecting a call?” Reflexively Ann pocketed the phone, as if that was going to somehow deter the girl’s question and didn’t just add to the suspiciousness of the action;

“I was just, um, I was…” it was odd that, for some reason, she felt almost uncomfortable, almost awkward, bringing it up. Surely it should have been easy to say; ‘I was checking if Ryuji was okay,’ and, yet, here, around her friends, she almost felt as if it’d be an embarrassment to admit to it.

“She was just checking if Ryuji was okay, weren’t you Ann?” Of course, things were rarely difficult for Ren, and his very plain, polite, explication of it helped her find her own voice; “Y-yeah, I sent him a text,” she said, nodding, as Ren gave her a small smile, nodding his head back;

“Oh, come on, he’ll be fine, his head’s so hard you’d probably need a diamond-tipped industrial drill just to scratch it,” this earned a chuckle from the depths of Ren’s bag and, never one to miss a chance, Morgana’s face poked out;

“Nya-haha, maybe we’ll have to check with the police station tomorrow, if they find someone like Ryuji lying around the parliament building, they might mistake him for some kind of vandal- ow!”

“That’s enough,” it was one of the few times Ann had ever seen Ren actually speak to Morgana as he were rebuking him, lightly tapping a finger against the top of his head, to cause the Morgana to grumble, retracting back into the bag.

Right when Ann feared an awkward silence might ensure, Futaba had already wheeled about on her heel, still amazingly energetic compared to Ann herself; “Well whatever, I just wanna hurry up and get home, c’mon Ren,”

The three were soon gone, waving goodbye to Ann, until she would be left to make the journey to her train alone. The walk felt longer than it usually did, at least in part because she was accustomed, of late, to taking it with someone else. It didn’t help that she still felt something pricking at the back of her consciousness, spoiling what should have been a good mood. She couldn’t place it exactly, but something about what Futaba and Morgana had said…stuck with her. She didn’t know why, it wasn’t as if comments like that were anything new so…why was it bothering her so much?

Was something different?

She looked at her phone again, anything to distract herself from the silence, but there was nothing there to see. At least nothing she cared to see.

“C’mon Ryuji, just answer me,” she sighed, thumb brushing over the screen. She kept her phone on the whole way, scrolling through text chains, blocking out that irritating background image, as she’d periodically look back at her chat with Ryuji, watching as the little indicator at the top ticked further and further away;

Last online ten minutes ago, fifteen minutes, twenty minutes…every jump darkened her mood. It was partly anger, yes, she could feel her frustration growing; _if he doesn’t check in how do I know he’s okay? Geeze, is he trying to make me worry?_ But it also felt strangely different, not the normal flash of irritation, or justified annoyance.

Thankfully she was distracted from having to investigate her own feelings any further, a chime sounding as she received a message, from Ren;

**Ren:** Heard anything from him yet?

She gave a small smile to herself, knowing Ren was on the same wavelength as her certainly helped give her confidence she was doing the right thing. After all, if there was anyone she could trust to know what to do, it was him.

She typed back quickly, using one finger, with the dexterity born of excessive use;

**Ann:** Not a word. Do you think he’s okay? Should I maybe head back to Nagatacho?

She had to wait a bit before his next response, idly remembering to look up, as she narrowly avoided missing the sign for her station.

**Ren:** I don’t think that’s necessary, if he isn’t back soon his mother will notice and contact either me or you anyway, so I think until that happens we shouldn’t leap to any conclusions.

He was right, of course, as he tended to be. Still doing nothing left Ann feeling…frustrated.

**Ann:** Its not like him not to answer though, it’s a pain. Would it kill him to just let me know he’s okay? Geeze!

It was a curious thing trying to impart emotion into a text message, it certainly wasn’t easy. But, regardless, Ann tried her hardest, smashing her keys far harder than needed, and using about twice as many angry-face emojis than were strictly street-acceptable. She didn’t really care though, the chance to just spill it out, the small feelings which had been kept lidded all evening, she seized it, hoping for a sympathetic ear in Ren. He was always very good at providing one of those.

**Ren:** I know, I know, look, we’re walking into Leblanc now, I’ll call you when

The sentence dangled incomplete for a good few minutes, Ann staring at it, waiting for some sort of follow up. Eventually something came through;

**Ren:** Talk later, something up.

**Ann:** What is it?

But there was no answer forthcoming, and his profile now said he was offline.

Ann gave a very unladylike grunt, but was far to fed up to care, as she swapped back to checking if Ryuji had sent a response.

He hadn’t.

“Seriously guys? Seriously?! Do I have to put with this tonight? Ugh!” Two blonde pigtails whipped on either side of her face as she shook her head, hand clenching tighter around the phone which was, very quickly, spoiling her whole evening.

_Its like suddenly everyone forgot how to use their damn phones! Ugh._

* * *

 

He beat his mom home, luckily, one of the few times in his entire life he could say, with all honesty, he was glad she had to work so late.

He left the lights off as he slouched in, his mother wouldn’t expect them on when she got back, and he didn’t need the light right now. His walk, though always somewhat bowlegged, was pronouncedly so right now, his face set in a scowl as one hand gripped the top of his spiky blonde hair, brushing through it rapidly, as he entered his room.

Shoes were kicked off unceremoniously into a pile beneath a shelf of irrelevant trophies, jacket was shrugged unto the back of a chair, and his face was buried in a pillow in a matter of moments. Finally, he breathed.

“Fucking hell,” he tried to say, although with his face squashed against a pillow it came out more like; “Fuwikin hwell,”

He shifted his face up, chin now resting on the top of the pillow, as he straightened out his leg, wincing only a little, before it got into a nice, comfortable, stiff position. He stared forward, blankly, at the headboard to his bed, the blackboard inside his mind still flashing with feelings and thoughts he’d prefer to ignore. It’d been easier to do so whilst in transit though, there had been things to distract him; counting steps, noting landmarks, memorizing his route back, all these things had given his mind something to think about, so that it didn’t keep circling back to-

_Worthless_

“Ugh, fuck,” Ryuji, actually, wasn’t the sort to swear…when in his mother’s home. Largely the result of a life spent wanting to make things easier for the woman who was always risking herself for him. It was a testament to his sheer frustration that he wasn’t even trying to hold it in now, as he gritted his teeth hard, like he was trying to bite a foul taste out of his mouth…

*Bzzt*

It was a buzzing which distracted him, for the second time that evening, drawing his attention to the phone which, he only now realized, he was still holding in his hand. Looking at it, the blue screen light casting a rather sharp glare, he felt the evening’s earlier confusion come back, mixing with guilt. He still didn’t understand why he hadn’t responded, he knew he ought to of. Even when Ren had contacted he’d still just…just not done it. He’d thought to, intended to, but…but…

He sighed, giving up on yet another attempt at understanding, turning over onto his back, bringing the phone before him, its blue light sharp in the darkness of his room, hoping, somehow, swapping positions on the bed physically would change his thoughts.

It didn’t work.

The message was from Ann;

**Ann:** Ryuji, please, PLEASE answer me. Just send something back, okay! I’m worried.

His eyes blinked in the darkness, the sharp light from his phone, two notifications glaring at him from it, keeping the rest of the room from being recognizable as anything more than a series of dark blobs. He breathed in, mouth open, feeling the air rushing in…and then rushing out again as he exhaled open mouthed. The tightness in his chest receded somewhat, although that just brought up the question of why his chest was tight to begin with.

One last time tonight he brought his finger up, intending to respond, it was better not to let a wound fester, better to confront it soon, better not to make one’s friends worry. Ann sounded worried and…he hated that, he’d always hated it. Seeing Ann, seeing any of his friends sad, it made him so angry, he’d never let anyone get away with making them worry like he had.

_Do you think they care?_

Seconds ticked by into minutes, minutes of staring at a phone, eyes blinking in the darkness. He wondered if he’d be able to explain it any better this time, the reason why he didn’t answer. Maybe it was just fatigue? Maybe he was just to tired to bother? That sounded understandable and in no way problematic, didn’t it?

_After all, if they’d wanted him to respond, if they were going to be worried, then surely, they wouldn’t have left him there in the first place, right?_ Wormed its way into the back of his head and, honestly, Ryuji didn’t know how to argue against it…and that scared him enough to stop.

He let his arm grow slack and the phone fell to the floor beside his bed, softly, as one arm rested over his face, as if to stop his eyes looking up, and he tried to let sleep take him.

Tried.

* * *

 

Ann stared at it, which, in this case, was referring to the noted absence of any text message, call or audio message by Ryuji.

_What’s he doing?_ By the two ticks next to her message, greyed out as they were, she could tell he’d seen it, but he’d sent no message of his own, no attempt at communication. Even as she sat on the train, hunched over like so many other youth, the little image in the corner, next to his name, seemed rather out of place right now, a photo of the blonde smiling broadly, a group shot of himself with the others…

She looked up just long enough to confirm her location, she’d have to get off soon, and for some reason that idea disquieted her tonight. Ann couldn’t be sure, but she put it down to the fact that she was making the trip alone, something she used to be accustomed to but, for most of the last year, she’d almost always made this trip with someone else; Ren, Makoto, Ryuji, Yusuke or all of them even, the point was that she had grown used to having company. Already she missed the Diner and the lively conversation there, but they’d had to call it a night, make the last trains, and Sojiro would worry if Futaba was out to late-

_Ren,_ she thought back to the rather odd way he’d cut off their conversation. Deciding just to be on the safe side, and maybe, yes, a little paranoid thanks to Ryuji, she sent a message to him, just asking if everything were alright still.

Her fingernails drummed against her knee, as she glanced out the train, pursing her lips. Sitting alone had after being accustomed to traveling with someone else was…strange, certainly not something she enjoyed. Still she did have experience with it, from before Ren had changed her life. Honestly, looking back, that moment when Ren had entered their school, and Ryuji re-entered her life, had changed her perspective on a lot of things. What she was, or wasn’t, accustomed to had changed more in the past few months then she’d have thought possible.

“Why did it have to be today,” she breathed softly, propping her elbow up against the window sill, leaning her chin into it. This was not the mood she had expected, or hoped, to end such a momentous occasion on. Part of her did, certainly, feel angry at Ryuji for putting her through such a wringer now, when she saw him at school tomorrow he’d get to hear all about that, but…the bigger problem, or far larger, was just…

“Ugh,” she leaned back against the chair, scowling, a hand reaching over to rub at the spot her neck and shoulders met, trying to massage the knots out of them with little success.

Something was eating at her, metaphorically of course, she could feel it, some sensation, some…some realization on the cusp gnawing at her…it was getting incredibly annoying, and she was tempted to check if she’d brought any antacids along just to try to get the symptoms dealt with.

Before that, though, she checked her phone again and, not really to her surprise anymore, there was no response from Ryuji.

There were limits to Ann’s patience though, and this was sorely testing it; _that’s it, I’ll just call him, he might be willing to ignore my texts, but there’s no way he’s gonna hang up on me,_ it was a pretty convincing analysis, based off all past precedent, and it might even have worked.

But whether it was fate or just coincidence, even as Ann opened up her contacts a text came through, from Ren, yes, but on the Group Chat;

**Ren:** Looks like we got it done just in time, Sojiro was being taken to Shido’s while we were in the palace…

Ann’s eyes widened as she watched her screen devolve into a rapid-fire conversation of texts, concern, questions, curiosity, speculation…

She briefly thought back to what she’d been planning on doing, calling Ryuji, but when she saw Futaba chime in that apparently Le Blanc had been ransacked too she had to get her own words in.

_This sounds pretty serious, I’ll check in with Ryuji tomorrow, he clearly wants some alone time right now anyway._

She closed her contacts, got on to the group chat and joined, all eight Phantom Thieves chatting…minus one. 


End file.
